Monday, 5 January 2015

So it’s
arrived again, the time when the decorations come down, the kids go back to
school and life goes back to what resembles normality in this house. And I can’t help but feel a little sad. The
anticlimax has hit. 2015 looms full of
opportunity, but full of the same old same old… There are going to be lots of
challenges that will need to be overcome, and I will face them with both
excitement and trepidation.

How to
combat a certain element of the fear of failure is a challenge that I will have
to learn, and to teach my boys. How to
look at a grey sky and see a blue one will at times be a challenge. How to find that last ounce of strength to
help a child with his homework when I am tired, or overworked or over wrought will
be a challenge.

But it will
happen. And it will be my little family
that will spur me on in any dark days that I have. The little pleading eyes
that say Please can we use the last Egg to make some Cupcakes? And the smell of
baking will ease anything! Or the little
shoulders that shrug when presenting me with the requirements for a fancy dress
costume due in school the next day – with total trust that I can do it. And I do.
Or the fiercely wagging tail of the dog which indicates that Yes, he
knows it is raining, but still, it would be fun to go and splash in puddles and
get all muddy. And it is.

And so it’s
not really so bad, the last few days of Christmas. It signifies that we have survived another
festive period, this year mercifully without any mishaps. It gives me time to
look again through the cards, reading those little scribbles that tell you what
others lives have been like, looking at the enclosed photos of their growing
kids or aging parents. It gives me a chance to carefully wrap up all the dough
decorations and baubles that the kids made in nursery, preserving them for
another year. And it is a time for
reflection.

And if
anyone needs anything to look forward to
- it will be less than 350 days before they all go up again!

Friday, 2 January 2015

On the
second day of 2015, or the Future (as featured in the 1989 film Back to the
Future II) most of us are sitting a little dazed as the mayhem of the festive
period in 2014 fizzes out on the horizon in a last pop of a Prosecco
bubble. The tree sits wilting in bedraggled tinsel and the outside lights that looked so magnificent at Christmas flicker disconsolately. The cards gather glittery dust on the window sills and half opened boxes of chocolate glisten unappealingly on the table. If we saw Marty, Doc and
Jennifer screech into our lives, big hair, smiles and shoulder pads looming, we would
assume wearily that we were hallucinating, and that the dodgy eighties tribute band
from down the local pub had got lost again…

FUTURE?

Let’s
face it, what does a film made in 1989 about our year to date really know? 1984,
in which George Orwell famously described a world in which we were controlled
by a Big Brother state in which there was an Inner Party that controlled the
85% of us Proles, despite a lot of accurate insights into the working of modern
governments and industries, came and went. We refused to die in May 2000, or December
2012 – both of which were ancient predictions for the end of the world. So
what is it about 2015 that will make it stand out as the Future? What is it that will make us think, at the
end of the year, that it was worth waiting for?

Back to the Future II starts off in 1985 where the original film ended, with Marty and Jennifer getting married. But Marty and Doc have to travel forward in time to 2015 to rescue his future son from being jailed. And then all the complications arise. So in effect, they arrive where us 80s kids are today. Yes we are older, fatter, have kids, family, mortgage and responsibilities. We get more tired nowadays, and a hangover lasts a few days rather than a few hours. And now its me cooking the Christmas dinner instead of my mum, and I don't do a bad job of it either.

But our true friends are still with us, and we laugh at the same stupid things, dance much to the embarrassment of our teenagers to the 'new music' before a couple of glasses of wine necessitates slamming on the Greatest Hits of the Eighties. And we would fight tooth and nail for our kids, rather like Marty.

Perhaps we
can’t stand around waiting for the hover boards and flying cars to appear. Perhaps what we have to do is make just one
prediction – that this year, the year of the Future, we will do something
worthwhile to us and to us alone. It may
be dropping that dress size, it may be getting that job, it may be leaving that
job, it may be learning to be patient with your aging parents, or curbing your
frustration with your difficult teenage child, or learning a new skill, dumping a toxic
friend, hitting the gym, or resolving to make some ‘me’ time every day.

Whatever it
is, this year make it worth it. The Future is here, and it’s yours for the
taking.

And if you
smell burning rubber and hear screeching tyres up above your heads, duck as
fast as you can, ‘cos Marty and co have arrived…

Friday, 31 October 2014

The older I
get, the fussier I am about making friends.
This is not because I am unsociable, far from it. I absolutely love making new acquaintances. I love the feeling of meeting someone new -and
if they interest me- finding out about their lives, what makes them tick, what
qualities attract me. Occasionally they
become a friend. And there is no tried
and tested formula. You do get natural
wastage. Friends who were once mainstays in my life no longer feature. Through no fault of their own, or mine, just
through circumstances or fate or environmental factors they have dropped off
the radar, relegated to acquaintances. #WOTW Word of the week is Friends.

And in the
spirit of Halloween I have categorized them in three groups: The ‘Witches’, the
‘Bitches’, and the ‘Climb out of Ditches’.

Witches

There’s
something spookily fascinating about the Witch friend. Mainly found in youthful circles, you can
also find them in the MaFia groups on which I have written before. She beguiles
you from the start, she could be very attractive both in looks and
personality. There is nothing that she
wouldn’t do for you, initially. She is very persuasive, and you find yourself
arguing on her behalf, without question. She invites you to everything, you become part
of her coven. You plot and plan and
travel in the pack.

And then you find that
the comforting silky spiders’ web of friendship that she has woven over you is
actually made of very fine steel. It’s
incredibly difficult to escape. You find
that instead of having an opinion, your voice has turned to a mere froglike
croaking. You look in the mirror and you
see a weak reflection of yourself staring back.

And you realise that you don’t
like what you see. And you break free before your get the life sucked out of
you, and then get thrown on the pile of carcasses that you have just noticed in
the corner of the room.

Bitches

These
friends are your ‘Yes’ / ‘No’ mates.
They give fully of themselves in the quest for tidbits of gossip, can
always be relied on for a laugh, and would cheerfully stab you in the
back. However, they are enormous
fun. These tend to be the mid term
friends, but can and do appear at any time of your life.

They could be mummies at school that you
befriend because little Johnny likes little Freddie. They could be work colleagues who become
mates through a mutual hatred of your boss.
You could go on holiday with them, live in each others pockets, and for
a time you would, in the spirit of friendship, do anything for them.

Until you realise that that is what you are
doing – everything for them. And their
favourite mantra becomes ‘I owe you one’, as they disappear off with someone
else. When that time comes, and you see that the mutual support structure is
based on golden sunny sand, then it’s time to shift. Either to firmer foundations with the same
structure, or you knock the sandcastle down in your memory as one glorious
sundowner fuelled holiday romance.

Climbing
out of Ditches

These are
your best friends. They come from all
walks of life, and at every stage of life.
These are the ones who pick you up, dust you down and set you back on
your feet. They are the people that you
would do anything for, no matter how unreliable/irritating/frustrating they can
be at that moment in time, because you know that they would absolutely do the
same for you.

They are the ones who
understand what is precious to you, and what you hold dear. They may be late, but they would never let
you down. And you can have a bitch and a giggle over a glass of wine. And you can drunkenly cast spells over those
witches that gave you such a hard time.

And frankly, if you fall in the ditch, they
will make you laugh trying to pull you out.

And hell,
if you’re too stuck in the mud of despair, they won’t leave you. They’ll get
right there in with you. And hug you tight.

Thursday, 23 October 2014

I cannot
believe that it has been a year since I started writing #Pantomum as a journey
into the unknown world of pantomime, and which evolved into snapshots of living with the boys, the family and life in general. And as the year has passed, so the kids have
grown, Little Man is not so little, Eldest Son tops us all at 15 years old and
6ft 2, and Middle Son is threatening to grow his hair just one cm longer so
that he is taller than me. In a year I
now have the smallest feet in the family.
In a year our puppy has become a big lolloping hound, the cats have got
used to him and even G, our disliker of canines, has been known to invite him
over for a cuddle.

One knackered Backstage Mum (and sea monster)!

In a year
my blog has covered a number of things in a number of styles, whether it is
poetry, prose, opinion pieces, the odd review on products or books, or simply
just a bit of creative writing. It showed the ups and downs of life, and how
people coped with good news and bad. One
of the most popular posts was a fairy story that I wrote for a friends little
girl who found out early this year that she had cancer. The
comments on A Story for Evie and its follow up post were lovely, and the donations to the Little Princess Trust even
better. I’m pleased to say that she is doing well on the bumpy road to recovery, and has been a very brave little girl with
the support of her ever loving family and community.

And it has
been a year of reflection. Tomorrow is my 16th wedding anniversary,
after a whirlwind romance all those years ago of just three months.
We’ve learned to give, take and compromise. Running our own businesses has not been
easy in the present economic climate.
But we still managed to save for a fantastic driving holiday in Italy,
which I attempted in some small way (despite some dodgy internet connections) to
share with you in The Italian Job posts.

It’s been a
year of acknowledgement. I’ve spent most
of this year beset with Achilles problems, mercifully coming to an end. None of
us are getting younger, and the kids are getting older. In a matter of months I will have 2 teenagers
in the house. The spectre of GCSE’s is
looming. Little Man is nearing the end
of junior school. And I’m now on the
downward slope to 50…

And yet our
life still is one big pantomime, sometimes I’m the Dame, often I feel like Dandini
as I run around after the kids, I’m constantly expected to be the Genie and
produce miracles at the nth hour and on occasion I really, really have to stop
myself from being the Wicked (Step)Mother.

And the
person who inspired this blog in the first place, Little Man, skips blithely
through life, leaving us scrabbling in his wake. Tonight at 9 years old he takes on the role
of Oliver in the musical at a local theatre, with all the aplomb (and
accoutrements) of a seasoned performer.
And we would not have it any other way.

Thanks for
sticking with us – are you ready for another year of mayhem, madness and
merriment?

Sorry, I
can’t hear you?!

I said… Are
You Ready for Another Year of Mayhem, Madness and Merriment?!

Saturday, 11 October 2014

I have a
very good ‘friend’ who simply can’t say No to anything – be it going on a
dinner date with people she can’t bear, being asked for the umpteenth time by a
non- reciprocal friend to pick up her child from a team game or asked if she
likes the sack-like garment her companion is wearing.

The fact of
the matter is that she does it purely for altruistic motives – she doesn’t want
to offend, in short, she wants to be liked.
This is, I suspect true of a little bit of all of us. But, after years of this kind of behavior,
she simply snapped and said No. And she
found it so empowering that she said No again and again, and now no one asks
her for anything, and she doesn’t have the worry of offending anyone.

But is this necessarily a good thing for
her? Has the woman who for most of her
life relied on others to ask her things to make her say Yes and be needed, now
cut off her nose as life whirls on without her, and she is left feeling on the
one hand empowered, but on the other hand disenfranchised.

We all do
things out of duty. Let’s take an
example. We are hurtling towards Christmas, the day where traditionally familial
duty causes the most stressful period of the year. It is no coincidence that the bulk of divorce
applications hit its annual peak in January. We may love our families, but all
in one place on one day? And having to
host disparate non life threatening culinary requirements – is Grandma this
year a vegetarian who eats fish, or a vegetarian who will eat a little bit of
meat? Who is gluten free this year? Who can’t eat chocolate, potatoes or will
only eat chocolate potatoes? Who can’t drink anything but the sparkling
wine you have been saving in the fridge, but can’t afford to bring a
bottle? What presents do you buy? How much do you spend? How do you extricate yourself from the ‘but
this is what we always used to do at Christmas’?

How in
short, do you stand up and say ‘No’and not feel disenfranchised or ostracized? Not No to Christmas per se, but No to the infinite
amounts of demands that undermine your sense of being. There is no point saying Yes to everyone if
you are miserable about saying so – it genuinely reflects back, at some
point. Do you wait until you simply snap
and start saying No to everything, and then feel unhappy when no one asks your
opinion? Or is there a way to gently
introduce the idea of saying No, so that you can say it with confidence and
truth?

Perhaps start a little
slowly. ‘You know what? That dress doesn’t bring out the best in your
figure. I really loved that blue dress
you wore the other day. It brought out
the colour of your eyes’. Or ‘I know you
really love sitting in front of the telly for five hours over Christmas, but I
thought this year we would play some board games – do you have any suggestions?’ Or ‘Why don’t we do a Secret Santa this year,
it would be so much fun and save everyone some money?’

And when you
are really confident , you can become the Machiavelli of No - and when that
mother asks you yet again to pick up her child, smile sweetly and say ‘Of
course I will. But would you do the same
for me next week as I have an appointment?
I am happy to provide the snacks as usual?’ It’s a Yes with a No, and a twist…

It may fail
disastrously at first. It will take a
while to come into effect.

And
remember -failing all else, you could always go Toddler. Shout No, stamp your
foot and run away.

I have found that this works with immediate effect.

(But you may need to sit on
the Naughty Step with a glass of wine whilst other mothers eye you disapprovingly.)